Sick
by lorethevac
Summary: There's a reason no one remembers the 34th Hunger Games.
1. Capitol Eyes

Sick

What were the Gamemakers thinking? Sure, the 34th Games were going a little slow. Seventeen tributes still left after the bloodbath, and only one more dying immediately afterwards. Accidentally, of course; she fell out of a tree. But their logic still doesn't stick with me.

The girl from 5 is awake now. So is the boy from 2.

They released the first blast about three days ago. Took out five of them within three hours. It was stronger then they'd anticipated, apparently. After all, they must have tested it on Capitol immune systems, not taking into account that the tributes were from districts that didn't have the same immunizations and healthy environments that the Capitol has to offer.

A cannon fires. It's the girl from 3. Didn't make it through the third blast. I didn't expect her to. Only two tributes left.

Those who made it through the first blast got hit by the second on the next morning. Same symptoms as the first day. Fever, headaches, dizziness. But the vomiting was new. This blast took out six. The tributes weren't even fighting anymore, just trying to survive. Most didn't. The tributes from 11 had the best shot, with their knowledge of herbs. But surprisingly, they couldn't find anything of use in the jungle-like arena. They died within an hour of each other.

The five tributes still alive spent the day of the second blast vomiting and crawling around. The boy and girl from 6 came across each other at sunset. His alliance was all dead, and she had been alone from the start. They teamed up. Tried to find some water. And they found it. But they forgot to use the iodine pill. Died in five minutes. Only five minutes.

The girl from 3 had the worst run, in my opinion. She didn't get as sick as the rest of the tributes after the first blast. But did she use the opportunity to kill off the rest of the sick kids? No. She found her partner and tried to nurse him back to health. And he died. Died in her arms. Any sanity she had died with him; she went crazy just before the second blast. I have to admit, it was a bit...unsettling watching her scream then vomit then scream and twitch then vomit. She was pretty much already gone by the time the third blast hit.

Blood. The third blast was everything the second blast was, with added blood. The sores, the vomit, everything. The three tributes that were left all went unconscious. Two woke up.

Somehow the girl from 5 and the boy from 2 knew they had to go to the Cornucopia. They crawled. Hands and feet. It took a full day.

They reached the horn the next morning. The girl actually ran into it with her head before she realized she was there. Clawed her way up to a standing position. Waited for the boy from 2. He showed up an hour later. His legs had given out, he was dragging...dragging himself forward with only his hands. He got to the other side of the horn. Pulled himself up too. His legs were wobbling like pasta, but he was up. Then they just stood there. Stared at each other. Stared. One day later, amazingly, they were still standing. And staring.

People in the Capitol were talking about the Games a lot. "Most boring Games EVER!" said one of my friends while we were out getting gelato. "I stopped watching two days ago," said my boyfriend when I asked him about it. "Let me know who wins."

And I did. I told him how the boy from 2's legs finally gave out for the last time. I told him how he had slumped up against the horn, slid down to his knees, dropped his head against his blood and vomit-stained shirt. And how he dropped to his left, hit the ground hard, and died. The girl from 5 opened her mouth and let out a raw cry, her voice cracking. Most would have heard only a scream. But I heard what she said.

Why?


	2. A Crane's Eye View

He just died. The boy from 3 just died. Can't say I hadn't seen it coming, but the girl from 3 clearly hadn't been expecting it. Not at all.

She hadn't become as sick as the rest of the tributes. At least that's how it had appeared. But I suspect now that our blast targeted her mind, because as far as mental health and stability goes, she's lost it.

She's trying to make the boy stand now. He was a small kid to begin with, and she doesn't seem to have any problem hoisting his limp form up and setting it on its feet. The way he crumples back down to the ground reminds me of a disjointed rag doll. Somehow, she must still believe that he's alive, because she keeps coaxing his corpse up and giving him encouragement.

Which only proves my point that she's gone insane.

His face is blotched and purple, his eyes have swelled shut. His tongue hangs out of his mouth, purple and bloated. Boils have broken out on his skin, most of which have burst open. And like all of the tributes that died before him, his eyes are open and rolled back into his skull.

The girl stands him up again and lets him go. Rigor mortis has begun to set in; this time when he falls his right leg breaks with an audible snap.

"Why haven't you sent the hovercraft yet?"

I spin in my chair to face Jasper Venier, the Head Gamemaker, my boss. He looks very tired. Dark circles line the wrinkles under his eyes as he stands in front of me with a slight slouch.

"Just trying to give the Capitol a good show," I respond. "Even though no one is watching anymore," I think to myself.

Venier seems to read my thoughts, because he sighs and runs his hand through his thinning gray hair.

"Send the hovercraft, Crane," he says as he turns and walks away. "And send out the last blast. It'll all be over soon. All over soon…"

I turn back to my control panel and hit the button that deploys the hovercraft. I watch as the claw drops down and plucks the boy right out of the girl's hands. She screams at the hovercraft. "He's not dead! He's not dead!" The hovercraft flies away, and I hit the red button labeled "Final Blast."

A hole appears in the sky of the arena, and an opaque, gray gas pours out into the arena. I look at the three screens that show the three remaining tributes: the boy from 2, the girl from 3, and the girl from 5. All three look up at the sky. The boy from 2 moans loudly, and immediately erupts into a fit of coughing. He's very sick. So is the girl from 5. She starts crying, but she's so dehydrated that no tears come from her eyes.

The girl from 3 sees the cloud, and her eyes grow big. She screams and starts running, tripping over her feet and stumbling around. She doesn't make it far; the cloud of gas envelops her almost immediately. She gags and continues to scream as breathes in the deadly gas. I hit the "Recall" button and the gas cloud is sucked back out of the arena.

I don't get to stick around to watch the preliminary effects of my last blast, because my shift ends five minutes later. I instruct my replacement not to do anything else unless Venier tells him to. Then I leave the Gamemaker's Center and head back to my apartment, ready for a warm dinner and a good night's sleep.

The next morning, as I walk into the Gamemaker's Center, I notice that all the Gamemakers stop what they're doing to stare at me. What's wrong? I check my watch. 9:59. I'm on time. A minute early, actually.

I stride over to Plutarch Hemmsbey, a novice Gamemaker who joined our ranks just last year. "What's happened Plutarch? What's wrong?"

"Didn't you hear?" he asks me in a hushed whisper. "Venier's dead! The President had him shot last night!"

My mouth drops open in shock. Venier. Dead? Yes, the Games weren't as entertaining as usual. I was expecting Venier would have gotten some kind of punishment. But death?

"But what does that have to do with me?" I ask Plutarch.

He looks up at me. "You're the new Head Gamemaker, Seneca. Venier named you as his replacement before he died.

I stumble back a few steps. Me? Head Gamemaker? I turn away from Plutarch and head for my station, in a trance. Someone grabs my shoulder. "Mr. Crane, you sit at the Head Station now," says a female Gamemaker that I don't recognize in my shock.

I nod at her and head for the center of the round room, for the large control panel. I sit down in the unfamiliar chair and try to get comfortable. It's a big chair, and I have to sit on the edge in order to reach the controls.

I look up at the screens. All three tributes are still alive. I use alive loosely. All three are covered in blood. Blood from wounds, sores, vomit. The boy from 2 is trying to drink some water from a canteen he has at his camp. The Careers had set up their camp in an open plain. They had been collecting supplies when the first blast hit, and all but the boy from 2 died before the day ended.

The girl from 5 is also drinking water that she has collected from the lake, although she has to purify it with an iodine tablet. She was alone from the start of the Games. No alliances, no kills, nothing. She had simply run up to the Cornucopia after the gong rang, grabbed a backpack, and run away into the forest. Alone from the start, alone up to this very moment. She'll be the winner.

When I see the girl from 3, I can't help but think, "Is that even a girl anymore?" I see a brown-haired creature, caked and smothered in a mix of blood and vomit, stumbling around in a circle and screaming at the top of her lungs. The scream is only broken when she stops to throw up. I'd wager a guess that she has about five minutes until she can't walk anymore, and another thirty minutes until she dies.

"Excuse me, sir?"

I look to my right to see Plutarch standing rather sheepishly, his eyes turned downward.

"Sir, the President is here to speak with you."

My eyes shoot wide open in shock. I jump up out of my desk and quickly stride over to the short man in the white suit, standing at the entrance to the Gamemaker's Center.

"Mr. President-" I begin.

He cuts me off abruptly.

"You're sure you can handle things around here, Mr…"

He looks down at a little card in his right hand.

"…Mr. Crane?"

"Y-y-yes sir!" I respond with a stutter.

The President gives me a look that makes me wonder if I should have answered at all. He strides past me towards my station. I notice the other Gamemakers staring at the two of us, and I sharply gesture at all of them to get back to work.

The President stops outside my station and stares at one of the screens.

"Do you see that girl, Crane?"

I look down at the girl from 3. She's still screaming and stumbling around, if not a little slower.

"I asked you a question, Crane."

I snap my head up. "Y-yes sir, I see her."

The President stares at her while he speaks to me. "The citizens of the Capitol expect the Games to be interesting. They expect children to be beheaded, stabbed, burned to a crisp. And it's this expectation that you must uphold. I encourage you to be creative. It doesn't matter how the tributes die. It doesn't even matter if they die! What matters is the entertainment value. And I am against nothing when it comes to entertainment."

As if to prove his point, he reaches over and hits a button under the girl's screen labeled "Poison". Immediately, a cloud of opaque green gas descends on the screaming girl.

"When the Capitol is entertained, only 23 people die. When they aren't, 24 die. Do you understand what I'm saying, Crane?"

I stare at the screen, watching as the girl proceeds to vomit up the remains of her life. Then I turn to look at the President.

"Yes sir, I do."

As the President leaves, I turn to see the girl from 3 slumped over on the ground.

I jump as her cannon fires. The doors slam shut behind the President.

I get back to work, observing the two remaining tributes.

When will it happen?

Next year?

In 10 years?

Tomorrow?

When will my own cannon fire?


End file.
